Splitting Souls
by Sia the alchemist
Summary: Voldemort might have found himself a protégé, but he'll have to tame her first. Featurung my OC Sia and her interactions with the Dark Lord, but it's not a 'pairing' nor is it a dark torture fic WARNING: curse words used. I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER
1. Splitting Souls

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the story, JK Rowling does. I do not make money off this fanfiction.

This is not a dark, angst-driven story revolving around torture, nor is it a smut/romance between the 70yr old Dark Lord and some young virgin. This story was just written for fun, it's more of a light hearted attempt to force Voldemort (probably my favorite HP character) to interact with someone who is like a cross between Hermione and Luna. This is not a faithful rendition of the Dark Lord, because if it were then we would have a dark torture fest on our hands and while I love reading those, I can't write them. This is more light hearted and just for fun so please keep an open mind and enjoy! P.S. If you've seen A Very Potter Musical on youtube then it may help you to picture that silly Voldemort rather than the book/movie version and if you haven't seen it then you need to stop reading and go watch it now, here, I'll help you .com/watch?v=wmwM_AKeMCk&feature=BFa&list=PL5F15A6A2E67F0C50&lf=results_main

Sia couldn't stand wizards, they made her life hell. If they weren't brandishing their damn sticks at her then they were trapping her in their politics. She hated being told what she could and could not do, forced to obey rules based on ambiguous morals. She let only her abilities dictate what she could do, to hell with their red tape. But right now she was in the fight of her life, her first in which the other team didn't play by any rules and now she wasn't sure what she was really capable of.

For a moment even the Dark Lord himself was frozen by the scene before him. Not in fear mind you, but bewilderment. He had not expected, upon apparating into Malfoy Manor for a revel, to find himself in the middle of a rather heated duel. Voldemort was always prepared to battle for his life at a moment's notice, one had to be with as many enemies as what the Dark Lord acquired, but it took him slightly longer than usual to process what was happening in front of him.

A wandless witch, presumably meant to be entertainment for the revel, was fighting off a handful of his death eaters. A quick assessment as he shielded himself and sat back to enjoy the show yielded that she was a tan brunette who couldn't be taller than 5' 5" and had the scrawny look of a runaway despite being around the age of 20 or younger. This made her extensive ability to use wandless magic curious. Even more curious was the look on her face. He had seen feral expressions on muggles and wizards alike as they desperately fought for their worthless lives, the chance to break them was the entire point behind these revels, but the insanity she displayed was more akin to that of Bellatrix Lestrange. This witch wasn't just angry, she was mad, fighting as if she wanted nothing more than to see the whole world burn.

She didn't stand a chance of course, especially as the number of death eaters increased. They were still apparating in as the time for the revel drew near. She was outnumbered and outmatched but her ferocity was breathtaking none the less. Voldemort watched with interest as she wandlessly diverted 3 more green killing curses around herself and threw random attackers into the air around her.

The game was suddenly less funny as he recognized Malfoy being smashed against wall, mere inches from an array of cursed torture devices set out for the impending show. Realizing that allowing her outburst to continue could cost him a useful pawn, Voldemort stood and fearlessly approached the half crazed witch. His death eaters, numbering over two dozen now, never stopped firing on her but parted for him as he quickly closed the gap.

Sizing up his prey he quickly ran a few diagnostic spells and was surprised to find that her shield was getting stronger rather than weakening, even though she was running out of attack power. To his fascination he watched as she used the magic from his death eaters attacks to reinforce her shield, as if they were throwing mortar at her rather than unforgivable curses. He was quickly brought back to attention when the fury that was devastating Malfoy's revel finally noticed his approach.

Or at least she should have. She only regarded him for a couple seconds, during which the entire room stilled, before turning her attention back to the death eaters. The fighting immediately resumed and his temper almost got the better of him upon being dismissed like an ordinary attacker before his rational mind observed that she seemed to be looking for something. Now that was interesting. What could she possibly be more worried about than her own life at this point?

He put up a shield around her, like a bubble containing her attacks, and silently willed a ceasefire from his death eaters who hesitantly obeyed. Soon many were chuckling, excited to watch her impending torture. Some were even squirming, almost chomping at the bit, to be given a chance to take part. But the Dark Lord just watched as her eyes combed the room, stopping only on some of the death eaters who had been in the room before he showed up. Frustration increasingly contorted her face until he suddenly spoke up, enticing her attention for the second time that night.

"I expect everyone but Malfoy, Lestrange, Nott and Dolohov to leave immediately. The revel will continue as planned in about an hour, you will await my call." The unusually light voice of the Dark Lord overcame the entire hall but the words hardly registered for Sia in her half mad state until the death eaters started to disappear. This spurred a full blown panic in her and she started to lash out against the accursed barrier that was trapping her. It lit up as she pushed out magic in all directions. A last ditch attempt to find it. They couldn't take it, SHE HAD TO FIND HER RING!

Lucius watched with discomfort as the other death eaters left. Some snickered as they disappeared in a puff of smoke, clearly envisioning what the Dark Lord had in store for insolent witch that had ruined the beginning of the revel he had worked so hard to set up. Others hesitated, clearly wanting to see her break under torture. None were so unwise as to stay though, except of course those who had been ordered not to leave. The girl's behavior suddenly became ferocious again as she watched hordes of death eaters disappear which disturbed Lucius more, because obviously any sane victim would have been relieved by the disappearance of so many professional torturers and murderers. Of course, she should be panicking because she had invoked the sole attention of the Dark Lord but unlike Lucius, she didn't seem aware of him at all even though he'd likely be the death of them both.

Voldemort took in the scene at hand. The girl predictably panicked at the sight of her quarry escaping and lashed out powerfully against his shield although it of course held strong. She seemed to relax upon seeing which death eaters were left, but perhaps it was just exhaustion? No, her appreciation was almost tangible. He had pleased her by removing the henchmen that had been in her way and she stared hungrily at the death eaters she'd been fighting from the start. He couldn't help but find her amusing both for her inexplicable strength and backward view of the circumstances.

The death eaters left were also noticeably excited about being chosen to stay. They seemed to think it meant they'd have a turn at teaching the witch her place but Lucius was sweating bullets. Only he understood that they could not be rewarded in the wake of such failure, and thus was the only one prepared for the following cruciatus. Voldemort held it for a full minute before releasing his death eaters from the excruciating pain. Now all but Rodolphus seemed to understand the situation. Good, because Rodolphus was the one who chose which prisoners to bring to the revel and would be answering Voldemort's questions about the girl. Questions he would probably answer incorrectly or inadequately giving Voldemort more opportunities to punish him.

Sia stood back and watched Voldemort torture his minions with glee. Somewhere, way too far in the back of her mind was worry but she would have none of it now. One of those sniveling bastards had her ring. True to Dark Lord form, he began to question his most unsuspecting victim about her and tortured him when he didn't know anything. Her excitement could not be contained as the questioning and torturing continued, allowing a wicked sneer to creep across her face.

Voldemort was disappointed but not surprised that Rodolphus knew nothing about the girl, she was a prisoner and therefore unimportant. His death eaters weren't expected to know anything about those whose lives didn't matter. He tortured him anyway. For not knowing who captured her, for not knowing where she was captured, for not knowing why she was captured, for not knowing who she was…

"Is there anything you can tell me about her my loyal servant? Perhaps even why you chose her for the revel?" He delighted in the defeated look on his death eater's face. Rodolphus looked nervously at the girl and said "She only stood out because of her accessories…" Voldemort turned and really looked at the witch for the first time that night. He noticed the bracelet draped across her right arm and on her left hand she wore a ring. This was unacceptable. Prisoners were to be stripped of personal items as a means to break them by destroying their identities. Rodolphus knew this which is why he was now cowering nervously waiting for his punishment, but Voldemort was still staring at the witch. She was fuming again, the mere mention of her jewelry reigniting her madness. He studied her face, realizing that it wasn't just the crazed look she had which made her appear so dangerous but the color of her eyes. They were golden, a color that could be naturally found in wolves and other animals but not in people. He also noticed that her bracelet no longer touched her skin but floated lightly around her arm. Then she screamed.

"THEY TOOK MY RING! GIVE IT BACK!" Sia jumped back through the hole that she had created in Voldemort's shield. He hadn't noticed the hole because she hadn't punched through by force. A shield was something that you had to feed magic to; she didn't have the strength to tear through it and even if she did he would have felt that, so she just diverted the magic that would have been forming the back of of her trap to feeding her bracelet instead. She had used him like a battery. And from the furious look on his face she figured he knew that.

Voldemort cursed. He had no idea how she surreptitiously slipped through his little cage but the damn witch had played him. In front of his death eaters no less. She ran around dodging curses and throwing a few herself but Voldemort noticed she wasn't putting much of her magic into attacking. At first glance she would appear to be using it to maintain her strong shield but he remembered her little trick from the battle earlier, his death eaters were unwittingly doing that for her. Suddenly he understood his mistake. If she could take the magic from oncoming attacks and divert it to her shield then surely she could steal magic from his shield and use it to attack him.

Admittedly his first reaction was to kill the little bitch for her insolence so he started levitating some of the physical torture devices that had been sitting out for the revel and began hurling them at her. This seemed like a good move because she started to panic. Now all her attention was diverted from feigning attack on his death eaters and spent levitating and transfiguring physical defenses which was clearly weakening her quickly. This reminded him that he'd made another observation which could be used to take her alive - she was looking for something. No, not just something, a ring! As much pleasure as he'd get from killing her he could do that after getting some questions answered.

Sia was growing weak. For the first time since she'd started making her trinkets she could feel death's approach. Hell, she could see him, the smug bastard was sneering down his noseless face at her from across the room. He followed her with those red eyes. Inhuman eyes like hers. Those eyes had spotted her shield's strength against magical attacks and just as quickly discovered that it was far more taxing on her to repel physical assaults. She was both horrified and incensed by this, but rather than let him take all the credit she berated herself for attacking with a reckless abandon that exposed her tricks. But she couldn't help it! She couldn't think straight, SHE NEEDED THAT RING. And as if he could read her mind, which she doubted he could, he answered her request.

"Do you know who took your ring?" The fighting immediately stopped. Lucius would never understand how such a whisper of a voice could cut through any noise and penetrate his heart with such icy fear.

"Perhaps we can end this without your death. I give you your ring and you give me answers." The Dark Lord coaxed. There was no need for further negotiating, she was his upon the mentioning of her ring. Excellent. Despite being mysteriously powerful, she was easy enough to control and even easier to read. At least her face was. Her mind was not only difficult to get into, but was an unhelpful mess. She succeeded in shrouding any useful information behind a barrier of insanity. She was clearly practicing occlumency to some degree but in combination she was sending out such strong emotions of hate, panic and desperation which one had to wade through to get any deeper into her mind that breaking in became unbearable. What an interesting if not infuriating defense…

Lucius began to panic. Unbeknownst to anyone else in the room, the accursed ring that had started this all was in his chest pocket. Rodolphus had brought multiple prisoners to him for the revel and none of them stood out during the process of transfiguring the clothes they'd been captured in into the plain prisoner robes. Some cried, the insipid muggles were confused in the face of science defying magic, but still others remained hardened. She'd been one of those who put on a brave face. Things didn't get unusual until it came time to remove personal effects, like watches and jewelry. It only took a flick of his wand for Rodolphus to collect these items from all of the prisoners at once…except for her. She had wandlessly shielded herself which was impressive but of no importance, it just meant they'd get to have some early fun with her. It wasn't until Rodolphus had gone to physically remove her things that she actually attacked.

Sia could sense her ring, but all she could feel was that it was unharmed, not locate it. She'd never worried about finding a way to locate it before because she'd never lost any of her pieces, they stayed with her always. She felt so lost without her ring now and the insanity that had been bubbling up in its absence was making it impossible for her to deduce who had it. As much fun as it had been to torture the Dark Lord with her fractured mind, for she could feel his failed attempts to read her, she was also embarrassed by her current weakness and would be relying on him to find the culprit. He must have realized this too because he just grinned.

Voldemort found it somewhat satisfying to know that the witch's craziness was a greater hindrance to herself than it was to him. Not that he wouldn't torture her thoroughly for it later, but it helped him hold off for the moment. He shifted his attention from the helpless witch to his death eaters.

"Well Rodolphus? Either you removed her ring and incited a rebellion in my presence or you failed to remove her ring, proving yourself incapable of processing prisoners. " The Dark Lord was clearly enjoying watching the man squirm but Sia was not concerned for his safety, she was waiting for his answer.

Of course, Voldemort knew it wasn't Rodolphus hiding the ring, it was Malfoy. The fool had been using occlumency from the get go, which wasn't unusual for any of his death eaters but now that he was the only one in the room hiding his thoughts, and no one else in the room knew where the ring was...well, he was essentially waving a big red flag. Voldemort was only torturing Rodolphus to scare Malfoy, which he found twice a satisfying.

"Crucio," came the Dark Lord's cruelly impersonal voice as he inflamed every one of his innocent (well not hardly, but in this particular case he was) servant's nerves. Lucius watched Rodolphus fall to the ground in agony again. He couldn't very well reveal that he had the ring now, could he? How had such a small thing gotten him in so much trouble anyway? He stole a glance back at the troublesome witch. She was seething again. He couldn't understand how she had caused so much uproar. Aside from being able to perform wandless magic, she didn't seem so special until his sticky fingers had managed to slip that ring off her during a pileup that had failed to hold her down. They'd realized quickly that they couldn't summon her things with magic but he'd been the only one to succeed at physically removing it. There was just something special about it, and he thought that taking it would weaken her. But it didn't, it just drove her mad. The effect had been immediate; she lost all restraint and attacked with a strength none could have guessed she possessed.

"Lucius!" Voldemort spotted the guilty party eyeing the girl and decided it was time to bring this game of cat and mouse to a close. His greedy servant responded immediately by masking his horror and facing him. He seemed to think he'd get out of this through denial. He was wrong.

"Yes my lord?" Sia saw the blond turn to the Dark Lord now. He might have been eying her before being addressed by his master but she wasn't sure because she'd been so keenly watching the one named Rodolphus being tortured. She felt fairly certain that the twitching mess on the ground didn't have her ring, as he would have given it up by now. If only the thief had put it on, it'd be back on her finger by now and she would have found a way to flee from this hell hole. She regretted coming here to hide.

Despite Lucius' best airs, Voldemort saw right through him. He demanded the man to lower his mental defenses to plead innocent, resulting in a quick confession. Lucius claimed to have found the ring on the ground, pretending it must have fallen off during the fight but the witch was instantly incensed and too crazy to keep her mouth shut. She obviously didn't agree with his account of what happened but rather than screaming about his obvious lies, she went straight to demanding he give her the ring back. Now that was behavior that Voldemort could not accept. He cut her off with a silencing spell and spoke up.

"You dare to command my Death Eaters?" She ignored him and started for her ring. Now that made him angry. He had been ignored too many times today by this no-name witch to tolerate any more disrespect. And all for what, some silly piece of jewelry?

"Stop there or I will destroy you ring!" he bellowed. Sia snapped to attention, which was hard to do without her ring. She needed it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE. No. She _needed_ to calm down, her ring was _safe_, she _needed_ to keep it that way.

Voldemort exhaled the breath he'd been holding. How frustrating, but at least he'd remembered how easy she was to control. He looked back at her trying to decide what to do now that he had her ring. He had so many questions that she seemed too crazed to answer. As if reading his mind she began to plead.

"Please I can't give you answers until you give me back my ring." Sia hesitated trying to think of something other than the truth to give him, but she couldn't come up with anything, not now, not without that ring, "I…I just can't think straight without it," she sobbed.

For all he knew, the ring would give her greater power although Lucius' memory suggested the opposite, so Voldemort had to pause to decide how to proceed. After a moment he summoned a lesser death eater. He had to know what the effects of the ring were and why she wanted it back so badly, but he could not risk himself or a member of his inner circle finding out.

"Put this on," he commanded, levitating the ring to the savage but unambitious death eater he'd decided to use. He was the kind of pawn that, if ring gave him power he wouldn't think to use it against his master but if it was cursed then losing him would be no great loss. Voldemort caught the girl grinning right as the ring slipped on the man's finger.

Sia instantly ran toward herself. Her half crazed self that the Dark Lord had commanded to stay still was sprinting toward the new death eater that was wearing her ring, and the new death eater she was controlling using the ring was running toward her own body. Unfortunately, only her body wearing the bracelet could use wandless magic and that self was consumed by her desperation to get to her ring, unable to comprehend anything else - including the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters rushing to stop them.

Voldemort felt like he'd been hit with a stupefy. It wasn't often that he was stumped so completely as to hesitate like he did now, but he had to snap out of it. His pawn surely couldn't be betraying him of his own free will so it must be the effect of the ring but this was not what he'd been expecting at all. His death eaters were also slow to react but once they did they threw everything they had at the witch. She wasn't using occlumency anymore so he could see that she wasn't consciously shielding herself from attack yet his minions' hexes still revealed a strong shield up around her. The shield wasn't absorbing their attacks though, and it was getting weaker, which meant that that trick must require a conscious effort. Now wasn't a good time for marveling though, so he sent a petrify at his corrupted pawn.

Sia was afraid she might have to watch herself die when the Dark Lord's curse came crashing into her back, knocking her off her feet. She cursed herself for never learning to wield a wand. She'd always worked so hard to get around doing things the normal way so that she could do them her way. Look how much trouble that had gotten her in. She was pleasantly surprised that he'd bothered to cast something non-lethal at her and thought for a second that her body might still reach her in time. Then she found herself being levitated. The Dark Lord had picked up his petrified death eater, which she was possessing, and was reeling her in like a fish. She could sense her body's panic since it had stopped protecting its mind during their mad dash to save each other. It was hard to think of a plan while helplessly floating ever closer to the scourge of the wizarding world.

Now Voldemort's temper was at its peak. He wanted nothing more than to kill the witch off and destroy that damn ring except that now he had even more questions than before. He checked his pawn's eyes for signs of the imperius curse, though he was sure she hadn't cast it, and was even more shocked to find golden unclouded eyes glaring back at him. She was completely possessing his death eater somehow but…he stared back at the witch who was practically frothing at the mouth like a crazed animal and had to wonder at the possibility that more of her mind was in his petrified death eater -in her ring- than in her body. He smiled that deliciously evil smile.

"I had every intention of killing you after finding out your secrets but it would appear that your _talents_ may be of some use to me."

It was somewhat of a lie, he still intended to kill her, but she seemed to be both at his mercy and coherent now that he had her mind separate from her body. It was almost sad really, the way the witch looked at his possessed death eater like a loved one. He was clearly withholding something precious to her by keeping them apart. Now he wanted answers. Unfortunately the fact that he was holding all of the cards now didn't seem to sway the entity possessing his death eater. Her occlumency was impenetrable, something Voldemort found unfathomable, and torturing the death eater's body apparently had no affect on her mind. His pain was not her pain, the body was just a vessel. In the same way, veritaserum had no effect, and he couldn't torture the ring itself.

Attempts to torture her body were largely unsuccessful now that she appeared to be having a conniption. "Even without my ring to think, I can attack and defend," the petrified death eater said. It was slumped on the floor against the seat Voldemort had taken to watch the witch be tortured for information. He saw another weapon graze her arm and sighed when the possessed death eater didn't even wince.

"I told you already, I can't feel what harm my body may incur while I'm separated like this," she said with an unsettling detachment while watching the blood flow from the new wound.

"You might have lied," Voldemort growled back. It was irritating to have someone so completely at his mercy be so completely out of control. They were at a standstill. He had all the time in the world to play with his new unwilling puzzle, but none of the patience to wait her out.

Sia knew she thought differently than most people, but anyone who found out anything about her thought she was evil. They were wrong because there is no such thing as good and evil, but that didn't mean she was free to side with the Dark Lord. She didn't care if he practiced dark magic, because she did too. She didn't care about his politics either because she hated the Ministry of Magic for putting her in this mess in the first place. But she'd be proving everyone who ever thought she was an evil person for practicing dark magic right if she helped the most hated man in the wizarding world in any way. She just couldn't do that. Of course, that made bargaining for her body back rather difficult.

"Why make things so hard on yourself?" Voldemort prompted. He was desperate for any information he could use against her. The death eater she still possessed was seated next to him, still petrified, for the night's revel that many of his death eaters had to miss out on. They'd been reassigned to go search for information on the nameless witch. Her body was still in a state of hysteria but tiring quickly, kept busy fighting death eaters who were lined up to prove their strength. She functioned similar to a carnival attraction for Malfoy's revel really. "Wouldn't you rather reunite with your body and go home to your loved ones? I just need to know how you do the things you do and then you can go free. I'd even make a wand oath." He'd be sure to leave a loophole in the oath so that she could be killed, but she didn't need to know that.

Sia wasn't stupid, in fact that was what the ring was for. She knew he'd cheat her in an oath of any form but he probably didn't actually expect her to buy that anyway, he was just fishing for information to use against her so she had to answer carefully. "Yes, I'd like my body back but no, I have no loved ones I need to get back to. That means there's no one you can torture to sway me nor will I crack if you kill helpless witches, wizards or muggles in front of me. I can't perform a wand oath because I don't have a wand." She continued without hesitation, but in a more subdued tone with, "I'm just as bored by now as you are so why can't you just kill me if you're not gonna let me go? I can't help you, and we need to end this."

Well that wasn't the answer he'd expected. Voldemort had to consider the possibility that she was lying about not having loved ones but it was a rather mute point since he couldn't even get her name out of her, yet alone find friends or relatives. He had been rather disappointed that she wasn't shaken by the revel though. He was used to dealing with bleeding-heart Order members who were at least upset by the sight of torture, even if they were hardened enough not to crack for the sake of the greater good. She didn't enjoy the show with the same blood lust as his followers but she wasn't disgusted by their behavior either. Sia knew she was safe from experiencing suffering similar to the death eater's victims. Ironically her mind being held hostage was what kept her safe. It also kept her from feeling empathy for those dying before her borrowed eyes. They were not like her, so their pain didn't do much to upset or scare her. Voldemort didn't know what to make of her detachment.

Her plea for death was tempting but he preferred to torture his victims past their breaking point before being so merciful as to kill them. It occurred to him that the only way to torture her was if he reunited mind and body. He didn't know if he'd be able to keep her contained once he did though. She'd been a handful without her ring, so she'd be even worse with it. That was another query plaguing him, why hadn't she fought before her ring was taken? He had no idea how she'd been captured in the first place when she'd mindlessly fought off hordes of his servants. Either she developed her technique while imprisoned, an unlikely thought, or she'd been caught on purpose, hmmm…

Voldemort removed the ring from his death eater, who slumped but still breathed. He had to assume that she'd been sent here to kill him. She must be some new weapon that the Order had come up with. If not the Order, then it wasn't like he didn't have plenty of other enemies. In any case, she was most likely an assassin and he usually dealt with assassins by killing them first. He rolled the ring around in his hand. Problem is, he didn't want her dead. He wanted to turn her, use her against those who had sent her and _then_ kill her. Slowly. He looked at the seething witch, glaring at his hand that held her ring. No, her mind, he was somehow holding her mind. He looked at the bracelet floating around her wrist and the ring glowing on her left hand. And he had an idea.

His dark mark was reserved for the Death Eaters of his inner circle. Those who were marked were bound magically, preventing them from attacking each other or himself (although he reserved the right to do whatever he wanted to his marked servants). No nameless assassin would be allowed to wear his mark, no matter how temporary he planned her service to be, but she had inspired him with a new way to bind the same magic to her.

Sia watched the snake faced bastard tear off a piece of his robe and transfigure something but she didn't know what because she didn't care, she couldn't think about anything other than the ring in his hand. He delicately lifted his wand and put some enchantment on whatever he'd transfigured but that didn't matter because that wasn't the hand holding her ring. She was about ready to rush him for it when he finally spoke up.

"Put this on," Voldemort commanded and sent a necklace floating over to Sia. At first his words meant nothing but as the necklace got closer she began to comprehend what he'd said. This was not her ring, she didn't want this. Why didn't he understand? She wanted her ring!

Voldemort watched the witch's anger turn to confusion before she finally wailed in frustration. She was clearly deteriorating mentally the longer she went without her ring.

"Perhaps even without wands we can make a magic oath? You put that on and I'll give you your ring back." He held up his wand which acknowledged the oath and was surprised to see her bracelet answer in return. He could see her eyes flicker with understanding that broke her feral streak, giving her a fleeting semblance of her humanity as she allowed the necklace's slow levitation cross her shield. With only a moment's hesitation she glanced at the Dark Lord and slipped the necklace over her head. By willingly adorning the necklace she accepted its terms like a magical contract, but she didn't know that. All she knew was that she could finally have her ring back.

Excellent. Voldemort was pleased to finally have things under control again. The little witch didn't know it yet but she had just accepted him as her master and rendered herself unable to attack him or his marked followers. He smiled at her and began to walk toward his new witch. She foolishly relaxed as he approached with his right hand extended, holding her ring. As she childishly reached out to claim it, he pulled back and grabbed her with his left hand. In the next instant he disapparated them both.

Sia screamed like a banshee at the shock of being pulled through space so suddenly. She glared at Voldemort who looked like he couldn't be more pleased with himself. It made her want to do horrible things to that smug face of his, and she would once she got her ring back. In a rare moment of clarity she remembered their oath.

"GIVE ME MY RING OR FORFEIT YOUR MAGIC!" the feral witch screamed. Voldemort was only too happy to oblige. He wanted to see the look on her face when she came back to her senses and realized her mistake.

Sia snatched her ring from his, again, outstretched hand. She quickly slipped it on and stared at it like a reattached limb. It felt like she'd been submerged in a nightmare, but could finally break the surface and breathe again. Her chest heaved with relief even though every muscle felt the sting of lactic acid. Finally getting her head together wasn't going to erase the hell she had physically and mentally endured, in fact, having to face them together with this much clarity was overwhelming. The fates cruelly spared her no time to deal with this compounding stress before she remembered her situation. This nightmare was far from over.

Voldemort was not disappointed. He briefly saw her entire face relax for the first time since they'd met, and he was surprised to see her eyes darken to a hazel green, but then her features twisted into a more pained expression while she simultaneously clawed at the necklace and looked around the unfamiliar room. Once on, the necklace could not be removed by its wearer, only the master could lift it over the wearer's head. He could tell the instant she switched to attacking him, but only because she resumed the incensed look he had come to know and laugh at. She was obviously powerless to against him. He had to wonder whether her ensuing horror had more to do with her inability to curse him or the realization that he was standing so very close. Her shield didn't repel physical objects unless she willed it to, but it recognized her master regardless of her will so she could no longer hide behind it. It was time deal out her punishment.

Sia couldn't remember the last time she'd allowed someone to stand so close. The Dark Lord's physical presence was even more horrifying than his dueling. Sia had learned not to fear wizards flinging hexes and curses with their sticks after becoming accustomed to wearing her shield but she hadn't had anyone impose on her personal space in a long time. She was getting a close up view of his noseless face, complete with wicked red eyes but she knew better than to fear him for his demonic features. She feared him for his cold, cruel expression. He was about to hurt her and thoroughly enjoy it. The air became thick with anticipation while they both stood for a moment regarding each other. Then Voldemort made just the slightest motion of his wand…and was thrown back screaming by Sia's shield. There was silence after he crashed down and then…

"HAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaha," she broke from her hysterics to suck in a painful breath as her thoughts circled on only one thing, 'Serves you right you damn bastard!' Sia sank to the floor, tears in her eyes, laughing herself sore. She thought she'd been on the brink of death or worse, and was beyond relieved to find that the situation was not so bleak. Her shield might not recognize his presence as a threat, but it still protected her from harmful magic - sparing her his sadistic retribution.

This infuriated the Dark Lord into throwing all foul manner of curses and hexes into her unwavering shield.

This of course tickled her even more which in turn drove him into a frenzy.

He had finally conquered this damn witch and she would not evade his will any longer. Before either of them knew what he was doing, Voldemort marched right through her shield and smacked her hard across the face.

This invoked a new breathless moment of shock during which they both quickly processed what had just occurred before suddenly launching themselves into attack. Punches were thrown, blows dealt and even weapons transfigured while they brawled the old fashion way, a technique which neither had needed to resort to previously making them both sloppy and inefficient. Voldemort's ruthlessness, cunning, advanced years of experience and clear size advantage quickly gained him the upper hand, until he'd finally managed to wrestle Sia to the floor, pulling her arms painfully behind her back, with his knee pushing down between her shoulder blades. She invoked every wandless attack she knew but the necklace still prevented her from magically attacking her master. She cursed herself for putting the damn thing on in her moment of weakness but it was nothing compared to the regret that they both had for failing to account for physical attacks in developing their defenses. There was almost a moment of understanding between them during their simultaneous self-flagellation.

Sia slowly realized she was sobbing. She couldn't be sure when she had started but she knew that this had to be the longest day of her life and it wasn't going to end well. Confident in his victory, Voldemort released her now limp arms and picked himself up off the broken girl. The ring she had so desperately fought for would only be threatened by her impending breakdown, so she softly slipped it from her finger so she could just cry without unnecessary mental agony. This shocked Voldemort more than any of her crazy actions had so far, but he let the scene play out in front of him. He would wait for her stress to subside so that they could get down to questioning. For now he could afford to let her rest so he placed her ring on a nightstand and disapparated from the room.

Sia had cried herself to sleep on the floor. She wasn't usually so weak but she had spent her entire life developing her magic and life style to avoid and escape confrontation. She was so strong, or at least she'd felt strong until she'd been bested so thoroughly by a wizard she wanted nothing to do with. Now she was just staring at her new prison. It was an unassuming room with wooden floors, matching wooden furniture and sage walls and accents. It would've felt cozy if she hadn't noticed that it lacked a door out.

She picked herself up off the floor, realizing just how sore the fighting had left her…and a face down nap on the hardwood hadn't helped. Mustering the strength to limp lightly to the nightstand Voldemort had left her ring on, she sighed at having received her first break. She was lucky he hadn't taken it again, Godric only knows what idiotic handicaps she would have agreed to in order to get it back the second time around. She stared down at the full size bed she should've taken advantage of. It looked so inviting, but instead she found her way to the bathroom, which she was endlessly thankful for. Slipping the ring back on her finger, she felt reassured by the sudden rush of clarity. Emotionally dealing with her circumstances was always easier when she could just set her rational mind aside but once her much needed release was completed, she needed her ring to move on.

There was no door between the bathroom and the bedroom but she wasn't modest enough to let that keep her from taking a shower. The warm water found wounds she hadn't even known she had, probably cuts her body got while fighting without her. One day she'd have to forgive herself for failing to protect it at such a crucial moment, but not today. That shame had a fresh sting to it, not unlike the shampoo she was rinsing from her hair which managed to crawl into every gash and proceeded to torture her exposed flesh. She stepped out of the shower and found some fluffy sage towels in the bathroom cabinet. After drying her hair and gently patting off her abused body, she transfigured the towels into a new robe, without changing their color, and went over to the bed.

Voldemort returned to his new servant's quarters to find her on the bed holding the ring from her left hand. She appeared to be tinkering with it when he interrupted, but she quickly slid it back onto her middle finger and he could at once feel her shield come to life.

He stared at it greedily, soaking up every detail now that he understood its purpose. It was a plain worn gold band adorned by a matching scarab. An amber colored topaz abdomen was visible beneath the gold wings of the carapace. The Dark Lord considered it for a moment and decided that a beetle could be a fitting representation for defense; after all, they were built like a tank carrying around their heavily fortified exoskeleton.

He shifted his attention to her right hand, over which her bracelet was draped, clearly inactive at the moment. Her bracelet seemed plain enough but he knew that it aided her with wandless magic and probably had something to do with her ability to redirect magic to her own ends. It was all metal, same worn gold look as the rings, crimped circular discs connected by metal loops. It made a satisfying clink anytime she moved her hand, now why was that so pleasing to hear? Ahh, it sounded like a shackle. The thought brought a smile to his face and his reached out to admire what was really shackling her, his necklace. He had transfigured a simple black chain from a piece of his own robes and added a tear drop shaped ruby that was a suitable for the magic he'd imbued it with. It matched his style, but now he wanted it to match her other accessories. He willed it to change into a chain of worn gold with an oval topaz instead and admired his prize.

"You must understand by now that you are mine." It was not a question, it was a statement so Sia thankfully didn't have to answer in any way. "I'm going to ask you some questions. You will answer me. If not we will have a repeat of yesterday's fight although crying won't save you this time." It's not like any of this came as a surprise to Sia, except that the fight had been yesterday. That meant she'd slept through the night…or was it nighttime now? There were no windows or clocks but it didn't make much of a difference to her since she'd never known the time or even the date during her imprisonment.

"We'll start with something easy. I want your name." He stared at her expectantly.

She hesitated but knew better than to keep him waiting. "My name is Sia," but he just kept staring so she continued, "I'm muggle born so my last name is of no consequence. I do not remember it but if you do not believe me then I can show you."

Well now that was odd, but she was letting him into her mind and he wanted to seize this rare opportunity. He had yet to find a way through her occlumency which he now suspected had something to do with her right ring, which she had fought so violently for, a worn gold fox wearing glasses. Perhaps the silliest thing he'd ever seen, an excessive and cliché attempt to portray intelligence. But he brought his attention to her eyes.

Again he noticed that they were now dark green, something else he would need to inquire about. She let him in, where he confirmed that she didn't know her last name. Going just a little deeper he could see it had something to do with obliviating herself. It hadn't been a mistake, she meant to remove all information about her muggle family, but for what purpose? She was noticeably squirming against his intrusion now but he paid her no mind. Digging in even more he discovered that she meant to protect herself, she erased all those who may be used against her in the future from her memory and cut ties with anyone who was a possible liability. She set off on her own, finding strength in her rings and bracelet which must now be kept hidden. She must protect them. They would protect each other.

In that instant he was forcefully tossed out of her mind, both of them groaning in protest.

Quick as a whip his hand lashed out and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"You will not occlude against me!" his demand was beyond contestation.

While his right hand held her face in place, his left grabbed a hold of her right ring, his thumb pushing the ring against her finger painfully. He wanted to know the secret to these weapons. How were they so powerful and why did she regard them as their own entities but at the same time see them as part of herself. He reapplied his legilimency and when her mind finally let slip the peculiarity of her ring, he couldn't stop himself from thumbing over it lightly in awe. Yes, that would explain why she would have to hide her family and hide herself. She was an outcast of wizarding society.

He hadn't even realized the small smile that had crept across his face but it was of no comfort to his prisoner whose face was still in his hand. Angered by suddenly having exposed more about herself to the most feared man in the wizarding world than to anyone else in her entire life brought a grimace of stress and fear to her face which she also would have preferred to have kept hidden.

Although she didn't know it, she was facing the last person in the world who could judge her for making horcruxes. All she knew was that the rings on her fingers and bracelet on her wrist were still painfully taboo to the rest of the world so she couldn't help but feel like she had just served him up her greatest weaknesses on a silver platter. She had dabbled in the dark arts almost as soon as she started at hogwarts but her first horcrux got her kicked out of school and her second made her a wanted witch. Being on the run and hiding all the time required the strength of a third horcrux, surely an unforgivable crime. And now he knew it all. Her secrets were her life, so if she lost them…

He interrupted her worries when he released his harsh grip on her face and gently ran his fingers down her jaw line while he removed his hand. She might have resumed occlumency against him but it took no mind reading to see her face was flush with fear. But he felt she should count herself lucky for coming into his care. After all, who could better understand the stigma that came from splitting your soul than the Dark Lord?


	2. Willing Prisoner

**Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from the story, JK Rowling does. I do not make money off this fanfiction. **

**This is not a dark, angst-driven story revolving around torture, nor is it a smut/romance between the 70-some-yr old Dark Lord and some young virgin. This story was just written for fun, it's more light-hearted so please keep an open mind and enjoy! Reviews would be greatly appreciated ^_^**

Sia's anger threatened to roll out of her as hot tears but she cleared her mind enough to regain control. Instead she fixed her glare on the bemused demon before her. She was sitting on the bed, all it's comforts lost on her at the moment, while Snake Face stood _too close_, looking _too pleased_. He had gone from man handling her face to gently caressing that damn necklace again. She didn't know how she felt about the change in esthetics. When it looked dark and menacing it had felt like a collar, clearly displaying that she belonged to its maker. Now that it appeared naturally alongside her horcruxes, as if it were just another piece of her…well that almost felt more disturbing. She could not accept this confinement…or could she?

Voldemort noticed with interest that Sia had started puzzling over something. She was eyeing him quizzically and he wasn't sure if this development would be good or bad. She had stopped fighting his unwelcome touch, which was somewhat disappointing because he loved dominating others and hated to see the game end so quick, but this in no way indicated that she would submit to him.

"What makes you so smug?" She asked, catching him off guard. No, she clearly hadn't learned her place. The question was laced with suspicion and…did he detect a hint of fear? He answered without hesitation, deciding that the truth would serve him best now.

"I'm merely pleased at having found someone so young who has made multiple horcruxes. Not only have you revived a lost dark art but you've found such _interesting_ and _practical_ uses for it." He couldn't help but gleam when she grimaced as if she'd been slapped. If she'd been suspecting that he'd discovered her secret, then she at least wasn't expecting his admitting to it. But before he could wonder too long about it she moved on to her next question.

"For a Dark Lord renowned for seeking immortality, you don't look half as excited as I thought you'd be upon discovering horcruxes," she noticed his smile widen and grumbled, "Not that you don't look overly pleased with yourself." She was silenced by his hand curling around her neck and his face setting in a blank expression. His grip was tight, uncomfortably tight, but not crushing yet.

"While I am feeling satiated enough to answer your questions, you will watch what you say _servant_." He coldly ordered but then continued in a more business like tone, "As you seem to have guessed, I am already familiar with the practice of soul splitting."

Sia visibly relaxed, despite the still harsh grip he had on her neck. Her biggest fear up till this point had been that she'd grant the Dark Lord the immortality he so voraciously craved, which would have made her the second most hated person in the world. If he already had the knowledge though…well didn't that mean she was basically off the hook?

"So you don't need me to help you become immortal?" She finalized. Voldemort shook his head to confirm. While she was finally able to finally shake the guilt that she might betray the world, her demeanor began to betray a new bout of trepidation. "Then you don't actually need me for anything…" she trailed off, possibly speaking more to herself than him but the Dark Lord would not accept any argument for her release so he was quick to interrupt.

"Your use of soul splitting is unlike anything I've ever seen before. Usually horcruxes serve to simply save a piece of you to prevent yourself from ever dying completely but clearly your horcruxes are imbued with magic and kept with you to make you stronger. I will learn your secrets. You will not be allowed to leave." Without much hesitation, and lacking any forethought she blurted out her next question.

"So do I get to stay here?" Her expression bordered on worry.

Voldemort was speechless. It didn't happen often, hell, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been shocked into unresponsive silence. Things had suddenly gone in a completely different direction than he was expecting. Was this little witch completely crazy? He'd just told her she wasn't allowed to leave, _she was his prisoner_, and she was worried that he was throwing her out? It came with a shock that he discovered his mouth had been opening and closing soundlessly while he had been failing to form a reply. This witch had reduced him to gaping like a fish! With reinvigorated fury he set out to correct whatever misunderstanding she'd had about her situation.

"YOU ARE MY PRISONER, OF COURSE YOU'RE STAYING HERE!" he held back the venom in his voice before continuing, "I may choose to change the location of your imprisonment, but you will be kept captive," he scrambled for words watching the relief set in on her face. This was not right, she was not understanding something. His grip tightened around her throat and she quickly switched back to fear. That was better, now things were as they should be and he could cope enough to proceed. "You will lower your occlumency, I need to see what you're thinking."

At first his demand scared her more than her restricted airway; Sia was not accustomed to so much _sharing_ in one lifetime, yet alone in one day. The tightening grip around her windpipe and the realization that he had already discovered her most incriminating secret helped convince her to comply though. One quick glance into her terrified eyes and he was in.

He didn't have to look far to find the memory of the conversation they'd just had, and from there he simply followed her relief upon hearing that she would be staying captive to her underlying fear. 'Ah, would you look at that? It's the ministry.' She could feel him smile inside her mind. The very ministry he was fighting against had chased her right into his arms, which would make her easy to sway.

She needed a place to hide, somewhere the ministry couldn't find her. Without the ability to apparate, she was a sitting duck anytime she wanted to practice her magic. They could track illegal magic and appear wherever she was to apprehend her. When the destruction of her wand had only resulted in a heightened aptitude for wandless magic, the decision was made that she'd be permanently stripped of her magic. He could feel her panic at learning that they meant to turn her into a squib. He could almost sympathize.

The Dark Lord had never been susceptible to such a predicament, he had been extremely sneaky growing up to protect his interest in the dark arts, but for a witch of her potential to be reduced to the likes of a muggle was an outrage. She had become powerful enough that she was difficult to apprehend, and even harder to keep hold of. With her ring, she kept a clear enough head to be smart with her wandless magic, hiding just how powerful she was so that they'd underestimate and ultimately lose her. But running wouldn't be an option forever. The ministry had an ever expanding file on her, giving each new round of aurors a better understanding of what exactly they were up against. She found her salvation in Knockturn Alley, where she initiated fights with death eaters to try and prompt her kidnapping.

Voldemort pulled out of her mind and mused at this. He didn't like the idea of anyone other than himself using his death eaters as pawns but she had been both brave and resourceful to consider hiding in his dungeons. Everyone knew that the ministry would never be able to save you once you were captured by death eaters, and she'd turned this incompetence to her advantage. He was surprised to find a solid, rational answer for her insane reaction to being imprisoned - but here it was, completely satisfying to him. He was incorrigibly amused with her despite himself.

Sia's eyes drifted to the floor. She wasn't evil; she knew she wasn't because it was a baseless, subjective term that held no real meaning but…well her actions were certainly enough to condemn her in the eyes of the wizarding world. Hogwarts and the Ministry definitely represented the good guys while The Dark Lord…well, his name said it all. Now she felt both guilty and afraid; guilty because she was clearly using -if not joining- the bad guys to hide from the good guys, and afraid because Voldemort now knew it. She didn't expect him to take too kindly to being used.

Voldemort studied his new toy like some long anticipated Christmas present. The scrawny little mystery just became more interesting the more he found out about her, each answer just provoking more questions. So it was with great displeasure that he noticed the sheen of sweat over all of her exposed skin, her pupils dilating, and her chest heaving. These were stress symptoms of legilimency, which meant that her mind wouldn't withstand any more intrusions today. She was clearly putting up a brave front though, trying desperately to hide her increasing vulnerability. She handled mental agony and psychotic breaks well, and that was something worth remembering for later. For now though, he thought his best plan of action would be to stay out of her mind and see to her stomach.

To her clear embarrassment, it had started grumbling and it occurred to him that she obviously hadn't eaten since they met just over 24 hours ago. Actually it had probably been even longer since her last meal when he considered that Rodolphus most likely wasn't wasting much food, if any, on prisoners. He could summon a house elf to fetch her food but he needed her to become more cooperative for future interrogations and being her source of sustenance could prove invaluable for brainwashing. Even muggles know that you tame wild animals by feeding them.

Sia focused hard on the Dark Lord's chest. She was trying to stay conscious, keep herself afloat in the churning sea of her frazzled mind, but looking to the floor would indicate weakness and eye contact would probably be a dead give away to her panic. No, his chest would have to be her anchor, an acceptable middle ground to stare at while she collected her thoughts. This is why she was startled when he suddenly whipped around and approached the wall beside the nightstand.

She floundered to find her focus but was brought to attention when the wall dissolved into a door before him and he indicated for her to follow with a wave of his hand, never turning to catch her momentary distress. She scrambled off the bed to follow, not knowing how long the door might stick around in his absence, but mindful of what manner of horrors he might be leading her to. A rustic, cozy kitchen was not on that list. That was what the short hallway from her bedroom opened up to, complete with a screened in porch revealing breathtaking forest surroundings. If Sia didn't know any better, she would even say it looked tropical but England didn't have any jungles…oh dear. She didn't dare inquire as to their location when she watched Voldemort open up a drawer and pulled out a rather large knife.

Being the most wanted dark wizard in the U.K. and having an obsession with immortality had made Voldemort paranoid about the possibility of having his food poisoned. He had also lived a very independent, self-sufficient life prior to coming to power so it shouldn't be so surprising that he preferred to cook his own food. It obviously shocked Sia though, so he tried to suppress a snicker when her jaw dropped and her eyes bugged out as he began summoning ingredients and utensils from around the room, bringing them together into a little circus on the counter. Olive oil poured into a saucepan as it floated down overtop a small flame on the stovetop while the Dark Lord himself began to chop onions over a chopping board that appeared seemingly from nowhere. As he moved on to mincing garlic, the chopped onions found their own way to the saucepan where they were joined by what Sia could only assume were bay leaves and sugar. She couldn't tell you when it had happened, but somewhere in her stunned fascination, she'd sat down at the table to watch the Dark Chef wordlessly order the can opener to free the beef stock which, like everything else, found its own way to the saucepan that had started emitting the delightful but tear inducing aroma of caramelized onions. When the last of the ingredients, a particularly disobedient pinch of dry thyme, dropped into the pan he sauntered over and covered it with the lid. With the same infuriatingly elegant stride he joined her at the table and sat down. It was a small round and uncomfortably _intimate_ wooden table. It fit the house perfectly, but not her company. The silence was uncomfortable but it didn't irk her nearly as much as his smug appearance from having showed off his effortless control over everything he'd been summoning and levitating. Hmmm, now if only she could kill two birds with one stone…

"We're not in Britain anymore, are we?" a question that successfully broke the silence and wiped that smirk off his face. Voldemort turned and looked out into the chokingly humid, overgrown jungle knowing it must be what had given him away. He recovered quickly though, seeing the clear advantage to letting her have that little piece of knowledge.

"Obviously we are not. Malfoy has many bunkers outside the U.K., outside the reach of the ministry's aurors," he added, remembering that she had chosen imprisonment over being a squib. There was another awkward silence as each waited for the other to say something. When he purposefully didn't elaborate on their location, Sia rolled her eyes and huffed, annoyed that he clearly intended to withhold any information about their whereabouts that could aid her should she escape. Before she could press any further though, they were interrupted by the buzzing of a timer.

"Would you like cheese and toast with your soup?" he asked while removing the bay leaves from the finished dish, closing the door on their previous subject. Sia would have objected to the change in topic were she not starving and watching the French onion soup be poured into 2 bowls while provolone and cubed toast danced about midair waiting for an answer. She nodded hungrily, afraid to open her mouth in reply due to the risk of drooling now that she found herself salivating uncontrollably. Of course that brought back his stupid smirk from earlier but she missed it because her bowl was floating closer, complete with toppings, and in that moment nothing else truly mattered.

He-Who-Could-Sauté conjured up some spoons and they enjoyed a nice dinner together silently. He hadn't wanted to upset her neglected stomach with anything too extravagant and the pauper's dish seemed to be doing just the trick. Her skin was gaining a healthy glow and her eyes were perking back into alert green orbs. He found himself staring at them again, curious about their color change. They'd been the same liquid gold color as Nagini's when they first met, but now that she had her fox ring back they had turned such a dark green hazel with layers of color that shrouded her intelligence, her mind a mystery to prying eyes. When she noticed his attention she stopped eating and stared back, no more animosity to her features, just a curious expression on her face. That was progress at least.

"Why have your eyes changed color," he asked in his typical whisper. It was deceptive really, because his voice was actually quite deep but he always spoke so lightly that the exact harmonics of his voice were difficult to discern. She found this quirk of his to be increasingly off-putting. Well if he was going to be creepy then she was going to be difficult, so in return she offered only this:

"Why are your eyes red?" She could see irritation corrupting his features but she merely smiled and waited. She had answered his question fully, now he just needed to figure it out for himself.

Salazar help him, he was going to hex this infuriating witch into next week. After he'd been so kind to her (kind by his standards) she was refusing to answer his question by changing the topic. And why would she even ask that? She of all people must know that his eyes were red and his other features inhuman because of the hor…crux…es…oohhhh.

Sia noticed that the Dark Lord's red eyes were gleaming with interest now, so he must have understood her hint. He quickly leaned across the table, closing the space between them, to get a closer look at her. His eyes went back and forth between her fox ring and her eyes but then they began to fall on her other horcruxes.

"So when they're with you, you aren't inhuman," he murmured more to himself then to her, "but that would indicate a level of interaction between you and your soul fragments that's unheard of." His excitement was clearly growing and he flashed her a bright-eyed smile. She didn't know it of course but on his old face, this had always been a favor winning smile used on teachers and peers who were oblivious to his true nature. Unfortunately for them both, on his new face it was just scary. Sia took some pride though in being able to make the Dark Lord look like a kid in a candy shop, if only she weren't the figurative candy.

Voldemort studied Sia intensely and came to the conclusion that, other than her alluring almond-shaped eyes, her face was completely plain looking. Her figure was nice, that of a fit 20 year old, and in no way monstrous. Someone who had made 3 horcruxes should have looked at least somewhat…disfigured for lack of a better word, since the creation of horcruxes wasn't a well studied art and the effects of having multiple was completely unknown before himself, but it _should_ show! He wondered what she would transform into if she removed all 3 horcruxes…

Voldemort's little daydream had given Sia time to remember her situation and worry about what he would do next. She didn't want the rest of her life to be spent locked away in that bedroom, her solitude only interrupted by his inquisitions. She rubbed her fox ring for comfort, willing her rising panic to subside. She needed a plan.

The Dark Lord rose from the table, pleased with the information he had gathered so far and wanting to look into the ministry's records on Sia, he decided it was time to leave. He walked back toward the hallway intending her to follow but he stopped when he noticed her lightly chewing on her lower lip. It was abundantly clear that she knew he intended to put her back into her room and she might be terrified enough by that to try and fight him again. He let out a tired sigh.

"It'd be in your best interest to let this day end on a positive note rather than forcing my hand here Sia." Realizing he'd seen her worrying made Sia react defensively, so she stood and backed away from him with a determined glare. He didn't want this fight, it would undo all the work he'd accomplished with her so far. Perhaps some negotiating was in order.

"This house was never designed to hold captives, only your room is suitable for keeping you properly confined. It has not escaped my attention that you've spent your whole life hiding, getting captured and then subsequently squirming loose. When I'm here to watch you, you'll be allowed out since we both know you've never mastered apparation but I can't risk you finding a broom and flying away or otherwise escaping when no one is here to stop you." Her features drooped a little, the determination still there but more resigned now. She knew she would lose but she was going to fight him anyway, unable to give up this new found freedom without even trying.

Still reluctant to destroy the civility between them, he thought of another route. He could win her favor and tie her to him further if he played his cards right. "What would you trade for your freedom?"

That question clearly caught her off guard. Did she have anything to trade? But he already had something in mind.

"You'll be free to roam the house and even leave it, going as far as your feet can carry you, if you allow me to magically shackle you." At first she was furious, it sounded like the ministry's intentions to turn her into a squib, but he quickly transfigured their dinnerware into worn gold anklets and held them out for her to feel. She inspected their magic and her stomach turned in knots. The shackles would allow her to leave the house on foot as he had suggested but they would thwart any magical escape, so no portkeys, floo or side-long apparition without him would work. She suspected that the house must be in the middle of nowhere for him to not even fear the possibility of her running away muggle style but even if she did, he would always be able to follow the magic to her. It played off her necklace, without which such a strong and specific confinement and locating spell wouldn't have been possible. He had essentially conjured up and offered her a leash to match her collar.

Voldemort smiled at her inner turmoil. She couldn't escape from one the Malfoy's specially designed prisoner rooms without being allowed out, and going from occupying a single room to an entire house and the surrounding jungle would provide an obvious upgrade to her living quarters so the pros were pretty staggering. This meant that her reluctance came from the fact that she understood exactly what she'd be trading if she accepted his deal. She could get a false sense of freedom if she gave up any real chance she ever had of escaping. He was afraid she'd turn it down, considering she was no stranger to confinement and her room here at the bunker was more comfortable than anything she'd submitted to in the dungeons, but he remembered how she reacted when she thought she wasn't needed. She wanted to stay, to hide from the ministry; she was just tired of going from one cage to another. He needed to remind her of that.

"You like it here, don't you? You could wake up in your own room every morning instead of camping in a new alley every night, prepare food from your own kitchen instead of scrabbling to find money for food and enjoy the peace of this jungle rather than submit to the noisy world of wizards that you despise so much," not that he'd let her go back to that life even if she chose it, but the point was that she needed to remember how unhappy she'd been with her life.

He'd seen it in her memories, her misanthropy clouding her decisions. She had always been a loner, disregarding people's opinions for the worthless drivel that it was, but it had been her greatest mistake to think that she was on the outside, looking in, like some impartial observer on the world. Growing up she could never decide what to do next, how to move forward, in a world that rejected the way she wielded magic. Tom could understand that, it was why he had become Lord Voldemort. If the ministry meant to control the way he performed magic then he would control the ministry, but she never had any ambitions to bend the world to her will. She just wanted the freedom to practice magic her way, but she preferred avoidance to confrontation. She could only be free once he was in control. He explained to her as much, delighted to see her try to find another way out to no avail.

Out of the blue he reached out and grabbed her arm, apparating them both to her room and, to her greatest distress, removed the door before placing the anklets on her nightstand…but when had she started thinking of it as hers? His damn words were spinning around in her mind like an imperious, corrupting her judgment. He looked around her quaint little prison while she buckled at the knees and fell back on her bed. She managed to stay sitting up but she was still reeling from their sudden flight from the kitchen through the hallway. He of course managed to travel with grace but she hadn't been expecting it and might never get used to the way death eaters sometimes turned into to something like a cross between ink and smoke and poured through the air, rather than disappearing from their location and instantly reappearing at their destination as in normal apparition.

"You'll have plenty of time to decide which life to choose in here I suppose," the Dark Lord mumbled with feigned disinterest before disapparating on the spot.

Having slept, showered and eaten already, Sia was at a loss as to what to do next. They'd passed a sitting room full of books in the hallway during their walk to the kitchen but she couldn't get there now and didn't see any books in her room. She longed for a window, something through which she could watch the living jungle surrounding her. There was no way the Dark Lord could have known how much she would appreciate these surroundings when he brought her here, nor would he have likely cared at the time, but now it was probably his greatest ally in coaxing her to escape her confinement by donning the anklets. She refused to be so easily manipulated though. What she needed now was a distraction, something to do to take her mind off things, just to clear her head.

She loved creating useful trinkets, and that would certainly require all of her attention…but what to create? She considered her surroundings, sitting here all alone when there was a jungle just teaming with life outside these walls. So many things to see once she got out of here (regardless of which method she chose for leaving), surely a hike would be in order. She started out simple, duplicating some pillows and transfiguring the spares into shoes but she didn't put them on because she didn't need them yet. Once she got outside she would want nothing more than to immerse herself in the humid green world she had admired from the kitchen, so she was hit by a sudden muse and set to work.

She searched the room for suitable items to transmute and settled for paperclips that she found in one of the drawers of her nightstand. Transfiguring two of them into small worn gold studs and the third into a slightly larger one, a bar capped by a small ball on either end, was the easy part. She began imbuing them with magic, concentrating hard on what she needed them to do and feeling her way through spell creation in a manner impossible to most witches and wizards. Rather than focusing on spoken invocations, she used the innate ability seen in underage wizards to harness magic through intent alone. Her bracelet floating softly around her arm, she began the time-consuming and tricky task of weaving the magic into the studs.

Armed with a first name, Voldemort had succeeded in digging up some of Sia's ministry file, though the part which detailed her offenses was classified only to the unspeakables which Voldemort had trouble swaying to his ranks. He assumed it was due to her involvement with horcruxes, which were of the darkest arts and kept from being public knowledge. He did, however, learn the names of her muggle parents and her short school record. It actually cited extensive use of underage magic…at age 8? She hadn't been charged for it since she hadn't received a wand yet and could hardly be held accountable for her actions but to have such extensive use and control at such a young age was astounding, reminding Voldemort of himself a little.

This of course caused the ministry to get involved and alert her parents, sooner than most muggles, to the extraordinary abilities of their child. When his ministry mole inquired as to whether he should capture her parents, Voldemort declined. She hadn't obliviated them from her mind to protect them, but herself. They were nothing more than strangers with similar facial features to her now, making them useless as leverage against her. Of course, should that ever change he'd know where to find them, so he rewarded and dismissed his death eater for a job well done. He moved onto some business that Malfoy needed assistance with and tried for at least a little while to put this new witch out of his mind.

Voldemort silently poured into Sia's room 8 hours after he had left it, realizing that she would need to be fed again. The only other pet he'd ever had was Nagini and not only did she usually feed herself, but she ate a lot less often than warm-blooded humans. He could see where this might get time consuming if he could not convince the girl to adorn the shackles which, like her necklace, only worked when taken willingly.

He was surprised to find that she hadn't even noticed his entrance, as she was huddled over on the bed with what appeared to be a miniature barbell in her hand, clearly performing some sort of spell casting but doing so without speaking. He conjured up a chair for his nice vantage point and settled down, unfurling his magic as stealthily as he could to try and get a feel for what she was doing without waking her from this trance.

As tendrils of his magic coiled around her own, he was instantly captivated by what was taking place. Feeling her create charms, rather than using known spells like most wizards, would have been interesting enough but the skill and grace she applied to forcing those magical qualities into a physical object was akin to watching someone knit or crochet. He had clearly come in on the end of her project and was delighted to bear witness to all of her charms being brought together into the final product which felt like a small implosion in the room.

He drew back his magic as she came back into awareness, watching her eyes flicker around the room before finally settling on him. Her reaction was not what he could have expected.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, hopping off the bed and trotting over to him like a child excited to see a friend. "Does this place have any calming drought?" she asked as she veered passed him at the last minute and stood beside the nightstand expectantly. Without waiting for her to ask, he summoned the door and followed her out into the hallway, where she waited for him to lead. He stalked out past her, unsure of whether or not he'd like where this was headed, but took her opposite the path they'd taken to the kitchen. The hallway terminated in a door that opened to a modest potions lab, from which he summoned the calming draught she'd asked for and handed it to her, too curious at this point to deny her request.

She summoned a needle from another drawer and cast a scouring charm on it, suddenly looking less excited, more queasy. She handed him the needle though while downing the calming drought. A pillow floated past the Dark Lord's head that she must have summoned from her room and he stared at her in shock as she climbed up onto the potions table and laid down.

"You're j-just in time to p-pierce my ears," she stuttered, trying and failing to feign the excitement she'd had earlier. Voldemort tried to make sense of the request as she held out 3 studs, two clearly earrings whereas the bar she'd been working on when he entered her room looked curiously different.

Sia had never understood the desire shared by muggles and wizards alike to skewer themselves holes so that they could be adorned like Christmas trees; it was one of the many puzzling behaviors that she had written off as just another ill-bred meme. She however, had a purpose for joining her trinkets to her in such a way. They needed to sufficiently be a part of her for their charms to extend to herself.

Problem is, Sia was terrified of needles. Not petrified mind you, as that would imply that she lost motor function in their presence, which was far from the truth. Fight or flight mode kicked in with a vengeance anytime needles were near, which is why she required both the calming drought and the assistance of likely the only person with the power to hold her down. And he was now staring at her dumbfounded.

It's not like Voldemort wasn't familiar with the concept of such body modifications, but he'd certainly never been asked to perform one. He'd always thought the idea of body jewelry to be a stupid fad for the masses, but assumed that her charmed studs must be intended to act on her in the same way that his dark mark was no mere tattoo for his death eaters. He placed the two studs and the barbell into his robe pocket while he fiddled around with the needle she'd given him.

The calming draught was kicking in as the Dark Lord approached her from the side, twirling the needle between his fingers as if debating whether to pierce her ears or plunge it in her eyes…at least, that's what she would have thought if she weren't feeling so warm and contented. She saw the way his long spindly fingers played with the needle and it only reassured her that he had a sure and steady hand.

Again, Voldemort's curiosity won out so he sat down at the table beside her head and caressed her lobe, where he assumed she would want the stud.

Sia felt his cold hands on the side of her face and aberrantly thought only of how gentle his touch felt. She summoned the cork from her empty drought bottle and held it beneath her ear so that he'd have something to push into. Somewhere, far back in the recesses of her mind, this spiked pure panic but she wasn't aware of that now that things were no nice, so peaceful, so

"OUCH!" there it was, the panic, unleashed from the haze of the calming drought when Voldemort finally decided to prick her ear. He held the needle in with one hand and used the other to push down on her sternum when she tried to sit up to flee. He incanted a spell she didn't recognize and suddenly her stud was in, having replaced the needle in her ear. He fished the needle out of his robe pocket, where it had replaced the stud, and levitated the cork to her other ear so he could repeat the procedure.

Unfortunately, the hand that he liberated by taking the cork was now swinging at him unreluctantly. He still couldn't petrify her while her beetle ring maintained that blasted shield, but he saw his opportunity to remove it while she was distractedly panicked about the needle and groggy from the calming drought.

Upon wrenching it from her finger, her body began to distort. He backed off her just in time to take in the sight of her ears growing long and pointed like an elf's, and her femurs shortened while her metatarsals extended. It was comparable to the transformation of a werewolf, though she didn't specifically look like a dog, just something inhuman.

"_Petrificus totalus_!" he cast, ceasing her sudden rampage which shouldn't have occurred under the influence of calming drought. "I'm merely going to pierce your other ear, just as you requested of me, before releasing you." He tried to coax her with his voice, because he was now dying to know what she'd charmed the studs with that had been worth going through this for.

It took no time at all with her frozen and after the deed was done, he sat down on the table with her, lifting up her torso and bringing her stiff arms behind her back. He used a sticking jinx to lock her wrists together and leaned her back against his chest before casting Rennervate to unpetrify her. She slumped against him before stiffening and sitting up. She cast a dirty glare back at him but he simply shrugged and got up from the table.

"How was I to know any better than you that the calming drought wouldn't work? I suspect it has more to do with your…_condition_, rather than any fault on my potions master." His words were like a slap in her face. She clearly agreed with his analysis of what had happened but she was still angry from having been so scared so she simply reminded him of another reason she could hate him.

"Give me back my ring," she practically _growled_. Actually, he wasn't so sure he hadn't seen her flash some canines during that command. He wasn't angered by her unruliness though, because he knew enough about her animalistic demeanor now to know that she was just putting up a front to mask her fear.

"You can have it back once we're done, but obviously my method of subduing you is more effective and as I recall, we have one left," he said as he pulled the barbell out of his pocket, "so where would you like this to go?"

Sia blanched. He was right, she'd need to be petrified for this next one.

"Th-that's a-a t-tongue ring," she barely managed to sputter. She didn't want to be frozen in place, helpless to defend herself and fully conscious for this one but it needed to be done. She hated being so wimpy but it was the concept of having her tongue stabbed through that scared her more than the pain, she would gladly take a cruciatus over this.

Ok, now he was getting slightly worried. The benefits that these piercings would provide her must be considerable if she, with her clear phobia of piercings, was resigning herself to having her tongue skewered. In all likelihood they would be used as weapons against him or implements for escape. He cursed himself for not having thought of this sooner and the muggle saying 'curiosity killed the cat' briefly flashed through his mind.

"_Imperio._"

Sia's fear and hate subsided all of a sudden, and the most wonderful sensation of peace overcame her. It was kind of like the calming draught, except that she was inexplicably more aware of the Dark Lord who was eyeing her wearily now. It was as if her very existence hinged on his every word…so why wasn't he speaking up? She couldn't please him until he let her know what he wanted. She whimpered a little at his hesitation, bringing him back into focus.

Voldemort appreciated the puppy-dog look in her eyes, so eager to please. "Tell me Sia," he ordered, "what do your piercings do?"

She baulked. She wanted to tell him, it was on the tip of her tongue…but at the same time…she didn't…she _really_ didn't want to tell him. It was a secret! She remembered now, it was a last ditch attempt to escape.

To her horror she realized that she had said all of this aloud, it just fell out of her mouth as it came to her mind like word vomit.

He was displeased with his lack of control. The Dark Lord's imperius curse was strong enough to turn most any wizard into putty but she was showing the same inexplicable resistance that she'd had for Severus's drought.

Suddenly he remembered her fox ring and groaned. How could it have taken him so long to figure out something so simple, that ring always got in his way!

He made as if to remove it but reconsidered when he saw the fierce understanding in her eyes; she wasn't giving up another ring and he could still remember what a handful she'd been without it the last time. In theory, being without two of her horcruxes would make her weak…_or_ it might just drive her mad enough to destroy them both. Unwillingly to face the latter, he came up with a new plan.

"I'm _not _going to help you _arm_ yourself _against_ me," he admonished her like a child, "so if you want this tongue ring back _at all_, you _need_ to tell me what it does." Had she been right in her mind then his condescending tone would have made her hurl, but he was familiar with dealing with those under the imperius curse and they simply understood orders better when spoken to this way.

Sia moaned with her last bit of resistance while stalling, as she'd been about to spill her entire half-baked plan to him. "It will…grant me…the gift…of…oh TONGUES!" she spat out furiously, the words fighting their way from her mouth. "I'll need it to speak with the…locals if I want to…to get help to…escape," she sighed, defeated.

So that was it? He found the plan harmless enough considering there were no _locals_ in this neck of the woods, Malfoy had seen to that. He smiled at the memory. Malfoy always preferred his bunkers be secluded but that didn't mean that he always chose secluded areas in which to set up shop.

Her compliance, no matter how unwilling, could be rewarded now so he cast another spell, mumbling incantations that she'd never heard before, and suddenly her mind was swimming. She was like a fish, having absolutely no sense of time or any concern for what was going on around her. It was a high existence in which everything felt right and she perceived nothing.

As suddenly as it had started, it was over. She was sitting on the potions table, her tongue throbbing, while the Dark Lord placed some sinister looking clamps down on the table with a HUGE needle that instantly made her light-headed.

Seeing that she was about to faint, Voldemort rushed to her side and propped her up. He slipped her beetle ring back on her finger and released the sticking charm on her wrists as he summoned an invigoration drought. Her features became human again and she greedily drank the potion that counteracted 8 hours of charms and 1 hour of panic.

"Thank you for…" Sia trailed off, incapable of thanking him for making her vulnerable and controlling her, even though it was necessary in order for him to comply with her request.

The dark Lord was feeling merciful enough to accept such insufficient thanks mainly because he was eager to see the look on her face when she realized that it had all been for naught, that there was no one out there to help her.

She suddenly danced out of the room, through the hallway, out into the kitchen to look through the screen porch into the jungle with a certain dark lord right on her heels. To her disappointment, it was darkening quickly but her joy rebounded when Voldemort made a creaky-springed screen door appear. She leapt out the door, into the rainforest without a second thought.

After a two minute sprint almost ended in a twisted ankle, she remembered to summon her shoes and ran off again. The freedom was intoxicating, and stretching her legs after such a long imprisonment was bliss.

As her adrenaline wore off and her gate began to slow, she heard the tiniest voice coming from the ground on her right.

'**don't step on me, don't step on me, don't step on me**' the mantra floated up to her '**just go on about your business and pay me no mind**'

She stopped and searched around to the creature's great dismay until she finally located it. Actually she was surprised she hadn't found it sooner because it was the biggest walking stick she'd ever seen in her life. It boasted a nasty array of spines over its impressive 6" length.

'**damn it sees me, it's looking right at me, I must moooooooove**' it hissed as it began to slowly sway back and forth. The system was low and sneaky, two steps forward and one step back to look like something swaying in the breeze.

Sia tried to suppress a snicker at this adorable attempt to flee, it would only take one step from her to catch up to a 6 minute flight on his part. Clearly her earrings were working properly, interpreting all languages for her, _including the inhuman_. She was still proud of herself for succeeding in hiding that from the Dark Lord, covering at the last minute with the term 'locals' which wasn't a lie-the native animals were inarguably locals.

'**I'm not going to eat you**' she said, mimicking his language using her new tongue piercing. The bug stopped short and reoriented himself presumably to see her better.

'**what does it say? how come it speaks**?' and he suddenly began to crawl forward. Sia reached out her hand to him and watched with wonder as his chocolate brown legs bent at odd angles while he pulled himself up into her open palm.

He was so cute that she didn't notice the cloud of inky smoke come billowing up behind her, solidifying into the Dark Lord, displeased with what he had misinterpreted as an escape attempt. He was forced to acknowledge his mistake when he found her coddling a rather large insect, escapees simply didn't do that.

It was endearing of her really, innocently whispering sweet nothings to a harmless and misunderstood bug. She suddenly hopped up and began shrieking in excitement over a new find. She placed the walking stick on her head and began creeping forward into the bushes.

Mid-conversation with her new insect friend, Sia spotted something inky black slipping across the forest floor. In her excitement she almost dropped Gollum, as she had come to fondly think of the bug. After instructing him to get a good grip on her hair, she hurriedly sought to cut off her potential new friend's escape route.

She was stunned to find a beautiful 6' black snake, and when he turned to face her, hissing all manner of vile threats to ward her off because he'd interpreted her actions as predatory, she noticed his white lips. The white-lipped python was native to New Guinea, not only that but the northern pythons were smaller and brown, which meant she was in southern New Guinea! That meant that the walking stick on her head must be the famous New Guinea giant walking stick, known for the spines on their hind legs that could make any entomologist regret picking one up in haste.

'**I'll Bite, Don't Come Any Closer, I'll Bite**' the D'Albertis' python hissed as it coiled back, preparing to lunge forward. As pleased as Lord Voldemort was with her apparent fondness of snakes, he figured now would be a good time to intervene if he wished to prevent Sia from getting bit. White-lipped pythons weren't venomous, but it wouldn't be good if she learned to fear snakes should he ever decide to introduce her to Nagini. He reached forward and affectionately wrapped a hand around the child's arm just as she began hissing.

'**Don't Bite, I Won't Hurt You**' Sia said, feeling a hand slip around her arm. She froze up, knowing whose hand it must be and felt him stiffen in turn behind her. Did he realize what she was doing? Oh please dear Merlin no, maybe he would just assume she was idiotically hissing back at the snake to scare it off. Unlikely, considering the harsh grip he now had around her arm.

"You…you're a parselmouth?" he sputtered confused. No, of course, it was those damn piercings! She hadn't been muttering to that insect earlier, she was really communicating with it! She'd known all along that there were no people around; these were the 'locals' she wanted to talk to. How much information had she gotten already? No, there was no way that a bug had known anything of importance. Animals didn't name their location, so they couldn't tell her where she was.

He was furious, she could see it. Honestly she didn't feel like she'd gotten away with that much but he clearly didn't agree with that assessment.

Lord Voldemort didn't tolerate secrets. He lashed out the only way he knew how, by grabbing her new bug buddy and starting to squeeze.

"No, don't!" Sia wailed, trying to warn him before the bad situation got worse, "the New Guinea Giant Walking stick has spines…" but not in time. Gollum brought his hind legs together, pinching the Dark Lord's fingers painfully. She was wrong about him being furious before; apparently he had only been mad, _now_ he was furious. His face set in that horrifying blank expression. She realized her mistake too late. There was a moment of silence as they just stared each other down, even Gollum and the snake sensing the tension well enough to keep quiet. Then he attacked.

Give the witch an inch and she'd steal a mile, the Dark Lord thought as he disapparated into smoke and engulfed the bug, the girl and the snake before whisking them back the bunker. They all tumbled into her room, and he quickly pinched the bug's thorax in one hand and the grabbed the python behind the head with the other before Sia could even collect herself up off the floor.

She watched in horror as reputedly the most menacing wizard the world had ever known left her room with Gollum and the beautifully iridescent snake struggling pitifully in his hands. She leapt up off the floor, to the best of her ability, after him but she was still dizzy from the trip and missed the door as it disappeared behind him.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" she bellowed, grabbing the anklets off her nightstand and pulling them over her feet where they resized so that they couldn't be pulled back off. She would worry about that later though, right now she needed to go stop a Dark Lord from being a complete ass.

As soon as she had them on, the anklets brought back the door and she stormed out into the hallway prepared for the worst. She ran into the kitchen but didn't see them there. Then she ran to the potions lab only to find it equally empty. Were they still alive at all? How long could an ordinary snake and a poor little bug survive the wrath of the Dark Lord? She was running back to the kitchen to try and look for them outside when she heard Gollum.

'**have to get away, showed it not to try and eat me, time to sneak away now**'

She had to backtrack only to be stunned by the scene in the sitting room. Voldemort was reclined on a comfortable looking coach with the white-lipped python draped across the arm rest, stroking its head reassuringly, while Gollum scuttled in the same wind-blown fashion that he always used, across a coffee table, toward the door where she was standing.

Upon seeing her astounded form in the doorway, the Dark Lord quit speaking with the snake and shot her one of those abominable smirks.

"Took you long enough, I'd almost given up hope that you'd ever find us the second time you ran past the door," he teased. "I'd say that giving up every chance you ever had of escaping is fair punishment for keeping secrets from me," Voldemort gloated. He was going to have fun with his new, willing prisoner.


	3. With these rings, I thee dread

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: It may seem weird that sometimes Voldemort thinks of Sia as a 'child' or 'little girl' when I stated previously that she is about 20 but this isn't a mistake, I didn't forget her age. It's kind of a joke, a stab at Voldemort's age, which if I recall correctly is around 70. Basically, every time he calls her a little girl that's actually me calling him an old man :P**

After taking a significant pause, necessary for comprehending how the Dark Lord had just played her, Sia was left damn near speechless. But she did have one thing to say and she felt it prudent to keep things short and to the point, lest she could make any more grave mistakes today.

"Bastard," she spat but this only increased his smirk ten-fold into a full-blown toothy smile. She wanted nothing more than to spin around and stomp out of the cozy nook that he was infesting with his presence but she knew that she couldn't afford such irresponsible antics. After all, he still had two hostages even though he'd let them go unharmed so far.

Sia reached a hand out to Gollum, collecting him from the coffee table without leaning any closer to the Dark Lord sitting across from them than necessary.

Placing the sturdy bug on her shoulder, she glared next at the python. It was much closer to him than what she was willing to get so now she was frozen by an internal battle between guilt and fury, trying to decide if she could bring herself to approach him for the sake of the snake.

Even setting aside those emotions, her logical mind wasn't helping either. She knew how childishly stubborn her motives were for refusing to go near Voldemort, it was nothing more than a defiant tantrum, but she could also see how much she'd risked already for just the snake and a bug and it worried her. She couldn't afford to weaken herself this much for two complete strangers. Sia had never gone to such lengths for people before, so why start helping others now?

It eased her conscience somewhat to see that the snake seemed perfectly comfortable around Voldemort just as he was with it, and he was still immensely pleased with himself for besting her yet again which seemed to put him in a non-violent mood so it was with considerable reluctance that she was finally able to turn and abandon it.

She'd never felt so guilty in her life and that was disturbing her. She had coldly sat through the brutal revel without even flinching while prisoners that she had spent weeks with (she couldn't be certain how many since there was never any indicator of the time there) were tortured in manners most foul, screaming and wailing for all they were worth to no avail, and he couldn't even get her to give her name to spare them. Then she meets two animals and within minutes he had used them to ensnare her. No, she was giving him too much credit, she had ensnared herself for him. This kind of weakness was unsustainable; she would have to give them up.

'**thank you**'

Sia came to a dead stop in the kitchen. Had little Gollum just said what she thought he did? She looked down at the precious invertebrate and was instantly filled with the most pleasant warm and fuzzy feeling…how cliché. But she bathed in it none the less; it was like a beautiful high. When was the last time she felt so strongly for anyone?

Never, or at least not that she could remember.

'**you're welcome**,' she started, unsure of what else to say. Conversing wasn't her strong point, in fact, she'd said more to Voldemort now than she had to anyone else since her recent return to the wizarding world from hiding amongst muggles. That brought her back to the problem at hand. '**but you must leave, not safe here**.'

She took a moment to admire her own success, the tongue barbell was working wonders. As odd as the speech may sound to her, the words always came out the way a stick bug would say them. It did more than just translate her words, it guided her on how to express herself.

Bless his heart, she suddenly got the impression that Gollum was saddened by the news. Something about him just wilted. Struggling to come to terms with how strongly this affected her own mood, she barely noticed the hissing of the approaching snakes although technically only one was literally a serpent.

'**Are We Interrupting Something**?' hissed the Dark Lord who was standing where the hallway opened up into the kitchen. Sia was so startled that she nearly jumped out of her robes, which started off two sets of hissed snickering. She glared at both Voldemort and the python, feeling somewhat betrayed by the latter.

He spoke up when he noticed her attention shift to the snake.

'**I Call Him Sagnheten, He Does Not Seem To Mind**'

Sia immediately turned her glare back to Voldemort, furious and confused by so many things that she didn't even know what to address first so she just hissed it all out at once.

'**How Is It You Can You Speak With **_**Sagnheten**_**? And What Makes You Think He Would Want To Speak With You At All, That Either Of Us Would For That Matter? You Were Going To Hurt Him! But Why Didn't You? And How Did You Know That I Would-**'

He cut her off with an exasperated hiss, only to realize that this increased her temper. He didn't know whether to attribute her mood swings to her gender or her young age, all he knew was that Dark Lords shouldn't have to put up with this kind of disrespect from little girls.

"Let's carry on this conversation in English, unless you wish to continue alarming our guests unnecessarily."

Sia was forced to acknowledge her blunder. The python did seem to be coiling up upon becoming the topic of a heated argument which revolved around his life being threatened and Gollum, though unable to understand what was being said, could certainly feel the hatred rolling off her in waves.

Once she had adequately regained her composure, he began addressing her concerns as if it were an uninteresting and tedious task.

"I'm well known for my ability to speak Parseltongue, the language of snakes, as it proves me to be the heir of Slytherin. Your ignorance of this is astounding, and is no doubt due both to your muggle heritage and flight from school. You don't know enough magical history."

His condemnation of her mud blood was to be expected but it struck her sorely that he had a practical excuse for it instead of just bigotry. She also wasn't ready to hear him cite knowledge of her academic history _or lack thereof_. He ignored her festering mood though, continuing with, "I didn't get the idea to use them [gesturing to the animals] against you until I saw how worried you were for the _New Guinea_ walking stick after it stabbed me."

His displeasure for how easily she'd been able to identify the local fauna seeped into his speech when he emphasized their no-longer-secret location. He seemed to think that it was the bug that had given it away. She was tempted to rub it in his face that it was actually his snake which had betrayed that information, but turning him against the one hostage he seemed disinclined to harm would have been her dumbest move yet, so she exulted in that error silently and found a different slip up to rub in his face.

"Well to be fair, I wasn't completely sure whether or not we were in New Guinea as we could have been on one of the surrounding islands, but your little tantrum confirmed it," she interrupted, ignoring his glare. "But that still doesn't explain why you let them live. You aren't exactly known for your mercy after all." She was pushing it, and that was unwise, but the look on his face was arguably worth it.

"Hurting them was never necessary, all I had to do was storm out of your room with them roughly in hand and let my reputation do all the work. Though I would love to smash that bug of yours, I figured that if it worked as leverage against you then that would be a waste, and although I only need one hostage to control you, I'd actually been looking for a D'Albertis' python without luck so you were really only doing me a favor by finding this one."

He looked tenderly upon the python at the same time that she glanced fearfully toward her stick bug.

He regained her attention by snickering, "It's always especially gratifying for a Syltherin to out-wit a Ravenclaw."

Ok, so now he was just flaunting how creepy he could be.

"What are you, some kind of stalker?" she spat, losing her temper again. "What else do you know about me?"

"Well," he sneered, "I know that you only attended Hogwarts for one year before getting thrown out and I know that in that year your grades were terrible. I know that you were caught dabbling in the dark arts but I do not know what specifically scared Dumbledore enough to turn his back on a student."

Voldemort thought back to how hard the good professor had fought Hagrid's expulsion only to be overturned by the outcry of worried parents who thought that his blasted Acromantula was to blame for the death of one measly mudblood.

"Not only did he deem you too dangerous to help, but he called in a favor from Karkaroff to get you admitted to Durmstrang Institute."

Sia couldn't help it as the corners of her mouth twitched up into a slight smirk, which didn't go unnoticed by a certain Dark Lord.

"You wouldn't mind enlightening me as to why the champion of the Light forged a false background for you with a former death eater so that a mudblood could attend a notoriously dark school when there are perfectly good alternatives for continuing your education such as Beauxbatons Academy of Magic."

Sia wrinkled her nose at the mentioning of the French school.

"He wanted to, we fought for a week over it actually, but I convinced him that despite the institute's standing on blood purity, the curriculum fit me better." Now she and Voldemort shared devilish smirks, encouraging her to continue.

"You sound just like him actually," now that wiped the smirk off his face, "but despite your obvious points, once you think about it, wouldn't it be more plausible for someone kicked out of Hogwarts for 'dabbling in the dark arts' to go to a school renowned for its liberal teaching of those arts than it would be for me to go to the _beautiful-wand_ academy?"

It was her turn to sneer. '_It's especially gratifying for a Ravenclaw to outsmart the greatest Gryffindor and Slytherin Hogwarts ever produced_' she thought to herself. Voicing it was not only too risky but she felt as though even a back-handed complement was too much praise for snake-face.

As usual though, neither could let the other savor happiness for long before ruining it so right on cue Voldemort gave his rebuttal.

"Despite your withstanding argument, I must point out that you only lasted two years at Durmstrang."

Sia's face fell. She had really liked Durmstrang and the memory of things going sour in her third school year was not a happy one.

"Again, the reason for your expulsion is cited ambiguously as 'illegal use of the dark arts' without any of the juicy details," Voldemort fished. Sia was growing too tired to keep her temper in check, something she was afraid to see becoming a pattern.

"Awe, is Voldy asking for story time now? Well let's just tuck you into bed first-ack!"

There they were, those familiar fingers around her throat again. At least he'd gone back to attacking her instead of Gollum.

"Tell ya what, Lord of my nerves, I'd readily exchange the full story of my expulsions for food right about now. Do you think you could perform another kitchen miracle?" Sia strained to say under his choking grip.

The Dark Lord almost groaned. '_Fuck, I knew I was forgetting_ _something_,' he reprimanded himself. He came here specifically to feed her and instead he had, well let's just go down the list shall we, pierced her ears, stolen another horcrux, imperiused her, pierced her tongue, _given her horcrux back_, chased her through the jungle, caught her speaking in tongues, tricked her into accepting his shackles, discussed her school schedule and now he was choking her for the _umpteenth_ time today. Oh, and somewhere in there he had been compared to Dumbledore. Gross.

Voldemort carried Sia over to the dinner table by her throat, placing her in one of the chairs before releasing his harsh grip, all the while attempting to calm his own temper which she seemed to have a knack for flaring.

Turning to the fridge, he had to admit that he was in the mood for a snack as well which was odd because he normally didn't eat this often. He figured that following her through the woods had probably worked up his appetite. Having 7 horcruxes made eating more of a guilty pleasure than a necessity, so he usually forgot to eat at all. The result was unpleasantly slimming; someone of his power should not have such a frail frame.

He stared back at Sia. Did her horcruxes have a similar effect? It had taken her this long to ask for food and running was much more physically strenuous than flying. It would appear from her drooping eyes and paling skin that she was actually starving right now though, and she had just eaten this morning.

That's when he remembered her imprisonment again. Of course she was starving, he had no idea how long she'd been kept in the Malfoy dungeons but he could presume that she wasn't fed enough even for someone with their light dietary needs.

Stepping up to the fridge, he thought about what he wanted and opened the door, pulling out a bowl of dates and apricots which he placed on the table in front of her. Barely sparing him a glance, she attacked the food voraciously.

"You'll want to go easy on those, we wouldn't want to spike your sugar levels now would we?" He chuckled at her nearly inaudible growl in response but noticed that she did in fact slow down. Now to get her some protein.

"Would you like eggs?" he asked. There was no need for a verbal confirmation, her eyes said it all. "Then I'll make us some omelets," he tried to say without laughing, "What would you like on yours?"

Answering required Sia to stop eating so she made record time with her reply.

"Just mushrooms," and with little pause she added, "and as many cheeses as you can stuff in there."

He chuckled again, she was much more complacent when presented with food. She was kind of dog-like in that respect. Well he would take her cheese request as a challenge, and began summoning more kinds from the fridge than she had ever known existed while the frying pan floated over to the self-lighting stove top.

He glanced over to see her expression, expecting one of awe or delirious craving, but found a calculating look being shot at the fridge instead. It occurred to him that her request had more purpose behind it than settling her stomach and he cursed himself for falling for the Ravenclaw's tricks again.

Sia stared at the fridge which had paraded out at least 16 different kinds of cheese in addition to eggs and butter and mushrooms. He had also retrieved the ready bowl of fruit for her to snack on prior and then she considered everything he had summoned from it for the soup earlier. Did he really maintain such a random spread inside it at all times or was there more to that refrigerator than meets the eye?

"You could call it the Fridge of Requirement," he joked, interrupting her thoughts. She was going to figure it out soon enough anyway now that it caught her attention, so what was the harm in telling her? "Whenever I'm not here and you find yourself hungry, all you need to do is summon whatever food you want from the fridge."

"So will it provide a completed dish or do I need to ask for the ingredients and make it myself?"

"It will provide the food in whatever form you wish it in, I just prefer to make my own," he answered. She wasn't nearly as shocked by this as when she'd first seen him cook, so he figured the Ravenclaw must have figured that much out on her own.

Once their food was ready, they ate in silence. This was mostly because Sia had a habit of eating like a ravenous animal that was afraid of having her food stolen. There was simply no room between bites for speech. Although they'd have to be curbed in the future, Voldemort decided to forgive her poor table manners at the moment. At his mercy she would be allowed to enjoy food, a commodity that in recent years of her life had not been guaranteed, so he waited patiently until she finished scarfing down her omelet before questioning her. When that time came, he made a real nuisance of himself.

"So when do I get to hear about your pitiful academic history?" Not really a question, he was going to get what he wanted now. That was simply a polite way to prompt her to begin, which she did.

"I was caught making horcruxes," she offered meekly.

Had he been drinking something at that moment, he would have spat it out.

"During your first year at Hogwarts?" he half shouted at her. He hadn't managed to trick Slughorn into discussing the creation of multiple Horcruxes until his last year at Hogwarts and now she was claiming to have made one in her first year…and then another in her third year? This was astounding! The surprise must have showed on his face too, because she went on to explain.

"As you've noticed, I did terribly my first year of school despite my proficiency with magic before turning 11 and getting my wand. I know that most witches and wizards are excited to receive their wands and start performing real magic with them but I'd already been doing that without one. I felt like it trapped my magic, caged it up in that damn stick, and required me to learn passwords of sorts to use what I'd grown up having free access to."

Voldemort had some grasp on his abilities beyond that of normal magical children when he was young, as well as an unusually high degree of control over his magic, but what she was hinting at was a power even more enthralling. A power which her extensive ministry records could attest to. As a boy, Tom had manipulated animals, levitated objects and even hurt other orphans but he had never performed enough magic to bring ministry aurors down on him.

And as she said, he had been thrilled by the power of his yew wand with phoenix feather core. While it was normal for underage magical children to experience infrequent expulsions of magic in accordance with their mood, wands tended to curb these outbursts. They carry enough magic on their own to be practically sentient, and once bonded with a compatible witch or wizard will seek to channel said person's magic by acting like a magnetic gun. Magic expelled from the wizard is drawn to the wand where it serves as ammo waiting to be directed rather than acting independently on their surroundings, a service which it appeared everyone but Sia appreciated.

"What kind of wand were you issued?" he asked, wondering if she'd somehow been given a weak wood or core.

"An eight inch hazel wand with dragon heartstring core."

Such a wand would have been anything but weak, but they were temperamental, much like the witch herself. If she had been distressed by the loss of her ability to perform wandless magic then the hazel wood would have picked up on that and malfunctioned frequently. Both the wood and the core were capable of exceptional magic though. He found it somewhat distressing that her memories indicated that the wand had been destroyed although he wasn't sure how, but it was something which she had curiously not been upset about. Its length was short, but she preferred to draw upon inner magic with as little wand use as possible so that seemed to fit her as well.

"How did you learn of horcruxes in your first year of school?" he inquired, "They are a banned subject at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore is quite possibly the only one there now who knows anything about them. _He_ certainly didn't tell you how to make one." Maybe he was being petty but for Lord Voldemort to have been beaten in the race to immortality (even though he had technically made all 6 of his decades before she made her first) was unthinkable.

"I didn't learn of them until after I made one," she sighed. Now that set him off. He had worked and researched diligently for the knowledge and she'd made one without any of it?

"Did you know that your victim doesn't have to be human?" she asked, dampening his temper. "I was practicing transfigurations in the forbidden forest when a centaur scared me."

"_Practicing_. In the Forbidden Forest." He repeated incredulously.

"My wand had a tendency to act up if it worked at all," she growled. This was obviously not the first time she'd been through the ringer for this choice and Voldemort hated to think that he might again be mimicking Dumbledore so he let her continue.

"Damn seers, the lot of them!" she spat hatefully. "First he comes up bellowing about my being in their territory, completely unappeasable when I tried reasoning with him, and then he zones out all of a sudden. Gives me some speech about how I needed to destroy myself in order to fulfill my destiny, something about 'shattering' and then 'picking up the pieces' in order to 'remake myself.'"

Voldemort considered this. Clearly the beast had been referring to her making horcruxes, as she had split her soul to create them and altered them to strengthen herself instead of hiding them.

"The whole experience was really creepy in any case, he went from bellowing death threats at me to…well, have you ever experienced a prophecy being given first hand? The Seer starts babbling in this other-worldly voice, it sounds like they're speaking and gasping at the same time," she seemed to blanche just thinking about it but continued, "and he just kept going on and on about how my horrible life would require me to betray and restore power…and…and he said something about the pain of remorse being both my death and my savior."

That caught Voldemort's attention. He knew remorse to be the only way to heal a split soul. It was rumored to be both excruciatingly painful and potentially fatal but it was the only way to prevent yourself from getting stuck mutilated in limbo should your horcruxes be destroyed. He could see where she was at risk of that happening by carrying all of her soul fragments around on her person and it alarmed him.

"I just wanted him to stop," she barely whispered. "I knew what I wanted more than anything else at that moment was for him to stop his scary mutterings, I was only 11 you know, and somehow I was able to manage my fear into the decision to act. Once I did that, my wand worked for me and I cast the only spell I could think of that would make me feel safe." She paused then said, "I cast the unforgivable."

He understood that she meant the killing curse without her having to elaborate. It wasn't unusual for first years to know of the unforgivable curses, but it was impressive that she'd been able to cast one. It was demanding and powerful dark magic for an adult wizard to conjure, but she and her wand had accepted the challenge while young and proved to be competent.

"But how did you learn the incantation for sealing your soul into an object?" Voldemort had learned the spell from _Secrets of the Darkest Art_, but if she had read that then she would have known about horcruxes prior to making her first.

"Incantation? I don't think I said anything, it just sort of happened," Sia replied.

Again, how could all of the hard work that he had put into becoming the dark lord he was today be sidestepped by some bloody little first year who couldn't work her own wand?

Seeing the resentment in his eyes, Sia decided that some self-depreciation was in order.

"Let me explain from the beginning," she huffed. "In transfiguration class that day I'd failed my assignment to turn a fox into a ring, so after my classes I snuck out to the forest and practiced. I had a ring that I was trying to turn into a fox but the transfiguration was tricky and my wand was backfiring even more than before so I was becoming too stressed out." Voldemort snorted, the girl had been setting herself up for a fail. If she'd been struggling to turn an animal into an object then she surely wasn't ready to perform the reverse since inanimate-to-animate transfigurations were much harder. Add to that the sensitive nature of her wand and you had a recipe for disaster.

"Look, it wasn't like I had a fox on hand to use outside of class, so I just went with what I had!" she spat, glaring daggers at him. Oh, she had clearly already been over this with the old coot and was in no mood to be graded on her mistakes a second time around. "In any case, I knew that forcing myself to keep going would do more harm than good so I took a break, during which I just played around with the ring. I just transfigured its appearance for fun so that I could calm down and regain control over my wand."

Voldemort looked at her right hand's fox ring and could see where this was headed. Sia noticed and could appreciate that she wouldn't have to spoon feed him the entire story. Not like she had when trying to explain things to Dumbles, the old coot was an insatiable interrogator.

"Yeah, changing its shape to that of a fox was easy once I put my emotions aside and just focused on what I wanted. I only added the glasses because struggling with transfigurations had made me feel unintelligent, like a failure as a Ravenclaw. Instead of getting upset about it, I just kept working on the ring and voila," she held up her right hand as if showing off an engagement diamond.

Voldemort hoped she had overcome such insecurities, because someone who had tricked the death eaters and their Dark Lord was not allowed to think of herself as stupid.

She continued, "That's when the centaur showed up. I channeled the same calm logic into killing him that I had used before to easily manipulate the ring. I put everything I had into that spell, and that's when it happened, a piece of me broke off…" her expression took on a rough maturity. "It felt awful, like I had lost something essential. It wasn't just the painful full-body tearing sensation that racked me to my core but the simultaneous, overwhelming sense of loss that brought forth a previously incomprehensible depth of misery. I was irreparably broken, worse than the emotional monster you met at the revel, until I picked up the ring."

She smiled for the first time during her recount. "My life went to hell in a handbasket that night for casting an unforgivable curse and creating a dark object, and I have never felt pain comparable to having my soul torn but…it was still the best night of my life. Once I put on that ring, for the first time since becoming involved in the wizarding world it felt like everything would be okay. It was like my stars had aligned and I could suddenly take on the world."

Voldemort knew the feeling. Nothing could compare to the creation of your first horcrux, not even your other horcruxes. It was the feeling of overcoming mortality, beating death.

There was a heavy silence as the only two living people with horcruxes simultaneously reminisced, sharing what they had once thought was a private feeling.

"Of course Dumbledore, in all his undoing mercy, would have you merely expelled rather than turn you in to the aurors," Voldemort scoffed, seeing an immediate change in Sia's demeanor. It was like watching the hackles rise on an animal's back.

"Once we cleared the initial confusion of what had happened, what my ring was, he immediately tried making me regret it" she snarled, caressing her fox ring protectively. "His worthless guilt trips became unbearable. As if I would ever take back killing someone that threatened me?" The resentment she held for Dumbledore was just icing on Voldemort's hypothetical cake. He was outraged at the 'good' professor as well, because the man could have only been trying to prompt Sia to take back her soul through feelings of remorse. How could the Light justify trying to trick an immortal student into risking her life by undergoing agonizing remorse just for the sake of regaining her mortality? The hypocrisy was sickening.

"You didn't convey nearly as much conviction in your retelling of the creature's death though," he pointed out. Sia clearly hadn't fallen for old Dumbledore's ploys since the ring was here in all its immortal glory, and she had already proven that she was no bleeding-heart, so why wasn't the memory sparking a feeling of pride? She should be proud of her accomplishment, however undeserving of her feat she might be. She had better not be regretting the loss of one worthless beast.

"Each of my horcruxes were worth killing for," she said, her face relaxing to a hardened grimace, "but the actual tearing of my soul has never been a pleasant experience. It's something I couldn't bear to perform again." She locked eyes with him, deadpan, before asking "Just how many have you made?"

Silence. He didn't break eye contact with her but he refused to answer all the same. Horcruxes insured your immortality only so long as you insured theirs, so secrecy was a must. None of his death eaters even knew about Horcruxes and, thanks to Dumbledore, neither did members of the light. Voldemort had always felt that knowledge was power and that the old fool's vehement censorship of the dark arts left the light blind to the threats against them.

"Should I take your silence to mean that I've outdone the Dark Lord?" Sia said, her face relaxing into a bit of a sneer.

Voldemort just laughed.

"Not hardly," he managed between chuckles, his mind supplying 'I've made twice as many.' She seemed unperturbed by this, so she didn't truly believe that she'd surpassed Lord Voldemort at anything. Good, it wouldn't do well for her to get that haughty.

The ensuing silence seemed to place a heavy burden on her though, as Sia sank into a melancholy stupor which was threatening to ruin the Dark Lord's rare pleasant mood.

"Well if you aren't regretting killing the centaur and making your Horcrux then why are you being so depressing?" he demanded.

It was annoying to be unable to just delve into her mind every time they made eye contact, securing the answers himself, but he refused to get into another fist fight with her to demand that she lower her occlumency. He'd gotten into too many since meeting her already and they were just so…so…_muggle_, yuck! He was no mere abusive man, going around hitting children with his hands, he was a wizard with a wand! And Salazar as his witness, he would solve his problems with magic. He'd already bound the girl about as many ways as he could think to, so now it was her turn to accept her position and cooperate. If all else failed, he could go back to threatening the bug.

"Well it's hard to think about the first one without remembering the second," she murmured, surprised that he'd noticed her mood but even more shocked that he could give a damn. "As you saw fit to point out earlier, I got kicked out of Durmstrang."

Ah yes, she had indicated that both expulsions were caused by creating horcruxes.

It didn't take a legilimens to see how she felt about that. Clearly Durmstrang had been the home for her that Hogwarts had been for him. He remembered how murderous he felt when Dumbledore had denied him the DADA teaching position and imagined that she must feel similarly about being cast from her rightful place.

"My only regret," she snarled, with the unmistakable impression of hackles returning "is failing to kill that bastard Karkaroff." Voldemort smiled. Again, she managed to unwittingly side with him. Karkaroff was a wanted man on both sides of the war, a traitorous death eater whose head the Dark Lord wanted served up on a silver platter.

It was funny how often they wanted the same things out of life.

"He never liked admitting a mudblood into his _preciously pure_ institute, but Dumbles must have had something on him. I suspect it had something to do with how an ex-death eater managed to obtain the position of headmaster at such a prestigious school."

Voldemort nodded in concurrence. Shouldn't the parents sending their kids there have been more opposed to that? It was true that Durmstrang had a reputation for being dark and promoting bigotry so it appealed to pure bloods who savored the old ways but still, his servants were not the type you would want to hand your children over to.

"He was barely willing to overlook me from the start but then I started surpassing his top students. My ring gave me incredible control over my mental state, so my wand functioned normally and my grades significantly improved. I was a glaring beacon for the hypocrisy of blood purity and he couldn't stand me roaming his great halls, even if nobody knew besides us."

Voldemort hated to admit it but he agreed with Karkaroff's decision on this one. That's what he would have had the death eater do, get rid of any opposition to the beliefs popularized by himself and his organization. She was, without a doubt, blatant evidence against them. His own blood wasn't pure but that was of no matter when you considered that he hailed from the great Salazar Slytherin himself. That alone made up for the interference of his muggle father on his purity.

"Cowardly as he was, he didn't dare do anything to me himself but let the nature of my parentage slip to multiple students and teachers. It seemed as though overnight everyone knew that I was a muggle born and didn't belong."

Her bitterness was infectious. Again they shared indignant resentment of those who wronged them and Voldemort couldn't deny a sense of camaraderie with the little fool.

"The effect was immediate. Can you imagine what it would be like for a mudblood to get sorted into Slytherin house, the uproar and attacks that would be instigated by their peers? It was like that, except it was almost the entire school against one little me," she sighed. Of course he wouldn't understand, he commanded fear and respect in his wake. Who would ever be foolish enough to 'pick on' the Dark Lord? Well, besides herself that is…

Voldemort remembered some initial resentment in Slytherin over his background but he had established early in his house that his half-blood status was to be overlooked. Through excelling in his classes and torturing those unwise enough to offend him, by the end of his first year he had convinced them all of his supremacy. He wondered whether or not he could have pulled off the same feat as a full blown mudblood, and had it been the entire school he was pitted against. Probably not without more of the professors noticing, and one suspicious Dumbledore had been enough of a bane to hinder Tom.

"I was getting hexed and cursed, not _daily_, but _hourly_. Karkaroff of course did nothing to the students brought before him for attacking me, not that many of them were caught since only a few of the professors valued rules over blood. I have never been a skilled duelist," Voldemort disagreed with that that analysis but let her continue, "and I needed constant vigilance to protect myself, in the hallways, during class, in the dining hall, even staying up because it wasn't safe to sleep! Needless to say, I knew something would give sooner rather than later. I was attending all my classes, yet for all intents and purposes missing every lesson, losing sleep and losing weight from nerves. I tried maintaining a shield at all times." Now Voldemort snorted, such an endeavor was impossible as you simply drained all your energy performing constant magic and it required at least some of your attention to stay up. "Well you seem to have guessed how well that went," Sia grumbled. "Which is where this horcrux comes in," she said, flipping him the bird with her left middle finger adorned by the scarab ring.


End file.
